Lindsay

The big problem here
Is boredom

We're bored

My sister died in a fire
Four years ago

I'm bored

I'm bored by that
By that story

You know what I mean?

I tell girls that story
So they can be like
Holy shit your sister
And I can't even cry about it anymore
And they think that means I'm even screwed up
Than I really am
Which I am
But not for the reason
They think I am

See--

I am completely detached

I don't know if that's a real psychological condition or anything
But I feel it
I feel how detached I am

Like life is this thing
This next-to-me kind of thing
Like, sitting on a couch next to me
In a waiting room or something
And I'm looking at it going--

Oh, that looks nice

But I can't really engage with it at all

I've started calling my mom by her first name
Not because I'm being disrespectful
Or because we're Jehovah witnesses or anything
Just because I don't really recognize her
As my mother

You know?

I mean, she's been a good mother
But I just look at her
And it's like--she's a person
And I recognize that she and I
Have this biological relationship
But it feels like nothing
I mean, it just feels like
Nothing's there

And when my sister died
I mean, when the house burnt up
And Laura, my mom, I mean
Wasn't there
Because she was out with some guy
And I was, fuck where was I?

I was--

I don't remember
But the house went up
And Laura was out with Steeeeeeeeeeeve
Who I never actually met
And my sister was home alone
Which was--I mean, she was okay on her own
She'd been on her own a lot
Before she died
But still, this was like a Tuesday

Damn, see?

Now I'm doing it to you
I'm trying to, like
Use my sob story to charm you
And I do it, like, I even do it
When I don't mean to do it, you know?

It's just this false
This falsehood
That permeates, like--

Like you're sitting in a bar in Hollywood
Bored
Like, just, always, you know?
Bored
And...

A girl sits next to you

And she doesn't know you're from Chicago
She doesn't know your hair's supposed to be darker
That you feel like shit because you didn't go tanning today
That in your wallet you have a photo of a girl
You used to call your sister
And the reason you weren't there
The night she died
Was because you were stuck at a friend's house
Tripping so bad
You laughed at them
When they told you
Your house was on fire

This girl sits next to you
And her name is Lindsay

Hi Lindsay, hi

She doesn't know anything
And that's what's beautiful about her
That's what makes her her
And you, you're so appreciative
Of that

Her oblivion

You can put all your boredom
Right down deep inside her
Until you have to go home
And then it's time to shove it back in your pocket
With your wallet
And your cigarettes

Hi Lindsay

My, my, my
You think to yourself
My, my, my

Don't you have a pretty oblivion?